Primrose Junction
by TereseLucy384
Summary: Based on the movie "Did You Hear The One About The Traveling Saleslady", this continues with Bertram Webb's quest to (a) become a real inventor and (b) win the heart of the beautiful Jeanine Morse. Hope you enjoy it :)
1. Chapter 1

**PRIMROSE JUNCTION**

**CHAPTER 1**

Bertram Webb stood in the shadows by the general store. It was late August, and the day was hot. As a bead of sweat trickled down his back, he wriggled and rubbed his back on the post behind him. He reached up and took off his straw hat, wiping his brow with his sleeve. He was waiting for Jeanine Morse to get out of work, and she seemed to be running a bit late.

Finally, he heard the door open and Jeanine's voice called out, "Goodbye, Mrs. Campbell, I'll see you on Thursday."

Bertram knew that Lyle Chatterton would be driving down the street any minute now. He didn't have much time. As the door swung closed, he jumped out from his hiding place.

"Hi, Jeanine," he said, his face covered with his trademark grin.

"Oh, goodness, Bertram," Jeanine yelped. Her hand flew up to her heart. "You scared me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jeanine," he said contritely. "I've just been waiting for the longest time."

"Well, what have you been waiting for?" she asked. She couldn't help but return his smile.

"Well, it's just . . ." Suddenly, he felt shy. He reached his hands up to his overall buckles and twisted the straps as he talked. "I - I was wondering . . . your birthday is coming."

"Yes, I know."

"Well, I was wondering . . . could I take you on a picnic this Saturday?"

Jeanine's face fell. "Oh Bertram, really I would _love_ to . . . but Lyle is taking me to Springfield on Saturday for a carnival. I'm sorry." She put her hand on his arm.

He looked down at her hand and then into her big brown eyes. He loved her eyes and her chestnut hair. She was wearing the prettiest pink and white dress, with a big floppy white hat to block the sun. His heart melted.

"Aw, that's all right, Jeanine," he said, pouting a little. "I guess I'll have to come up with something else for your birthday, then."

"Oh Bertram, you don't have to get me anything," she said.

He started to protest, but he heard the familiar roar of Lyle's sporty yellow motorcar coming up the street. Lyle honked his brand new horn and pulled up beside Jeanine, sending up a dusty cloud.

Bertram stepped back and coughed. His shoulders slumped as he watched Lyle hop out of his car and help Jeanine into the passenger seat. Lyle, as usual, was dressed in his finest dress pants and shirt, with a tan, thinly striped vest and a smart flat cap atop his head. Bertram looked down at his worn brown shirt and faded overalls. He sighed as he brushed his bangs back out of his eyes and put his straw hat back on.

"Goodbye, Bertram," Jeanine called out, waving. "I'll talk to you later, all right? I'm coming by to get some eggs from your mother."

Bertram nodded and waved. "Bye, Jeanine. Bye, Lyle." With his head hung down, he turned and headed for home, kicking a rock as he went.

* * *

As his wood burner was not running very well, he began the long walk back to his farm. Once he got out of town, he veered off the main road and followed the river. He was about a half mile away from home when he heard a squeaky yelping sound. Following the sound, he rounded a bend in the river and hiding in a large bush was a small, scrawny looking dog, all black with just a little white tip on her tail. As Bertram got closer, she lowered her head and whined.

Bertram crouched down and held out his hand and talked softly. "Come here, girl. That's right, come on."

The dog got up and started to walk cautiously toward him. That's when Bertram saw the puppy . . . well, puppies, but two appeared to be dead. There was one, however, that was still wiggling around and making squeaking noises.

The dog stood a few feet away, stretching her neck to sniff his hand. Bertram held still and kept murmuring little sounds to the dog. When she finally approached him, he ran his hand down her back. He was surprised to feel her spine and ribcage.

"Aw, you poor thing. You're starving. Come on, I think I can carry you both. Will you let me hold your baby?" The dog leaned against him and whined again. Bertram reached into the bush and gently picked up the puppy; then in his other arm, he lifted the dog. She reached up and licked his cheek.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jeanine Morse sat frozen in the motorcar next to Lyle Chatterton as they careened down the road. Lyle liked going fast, but it frightened Jeanine. She had tried to tell him when he first got the car how much the speed frightened her, but he dismissed it as typical female manipulation.

"So, what did Plow Boy want?" Lyle asked with a sneer.

"Don't call him that," Jeanine scolded. "He asked me to go on a picnic Saturday. I told him we were going to the carnival."

"Good. Whatever possessed him to think you would go out with him anyway?" Lyle shook his head. He and Bertram had known each other since they were boys, but Lyle lived a lot richer lifestyle than the Webb family could ever imagine. Lyle's father owned a logging company and the town's sawmill, both businesses being quite successful.

"Lyle, don't be mean. Bertram is a very sweet boy." Jeanine shook her head and frowned.

Her mother had died when Jeanine was only 16 years old. Then, last spring, her father was killed when a fierce storm took down their big oak tree, sending it crashing into their barn, where he had been doing some woodworking. He was killed instantly.

Lyle had been driving by in his brand new motorcar when the storm blew in and had taken shelter at the Morse home. When the tree came down, he was the one that was there to comfort Jeanine.

Ever since then, Lyle had taken control of her life; being so alone and grieving, she had come to lean on him. Lately, though,she was questioning whether it was love or just convenience. Not to mention that she was becoming frustrated with the way he treated people that he deemed below his social status; _especially_ Bertram. Like Lyle, she had known Bertram since they were children. His family lived up the road from hers, and they had often walked to school together; although, Bertram was a few years older.

Jeanine put her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. She remembered the day last month when Bertram had entered his wood burner in the town's automobile race. Bertram had gotten arrested on a trumped-up charge, so his friend, Agatha, a saleslady from St. Louis, had driven it and won the race. Jeanine had been disappointed that Bertram hadn't been the driver; she had been named Queen of the Fair that day and was scheduled to kiss the winner on the podium.

She was snapped back to the present when Lyle rounded the corner into her front yard on two wheels. Jeanine let out a screech and dug her nails into his dashboard.

"Good Lord, Lyle," she yelled when he pulled to a stop. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," he answered. He turned to her and put his arm on the back of the leather seat, hoping that she'd slide over for a kiss.

Instead, she whipped open her door, jumped out of the car and headed for her front door in a fury.

"What are you so mad about?" he asked, completely perplexed, as he followed her onto the porch.

Honestly, she didn't even know. He wasn't behaving any differently than any other day he had driven her home for the past few months. _Bertram_. The thought snuck into her head.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied him_. Bertram_. He was cutting across the field beyond her garden, on his way home from town. She was trying not to look over at him; that would just alert Lyle to his presence . . . but it looked like he was carrying something awkward.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Lyle asked.

She didn't want to, but if he turned back to the car now, he would definitely see Bertram. That would only lead to more snide comments, and she didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon arguing.

"Fine," she said, standing back and opening the front door. "But just for a few minutes. One glass of lemonade."

As Lyle barreled by her and headed to the icebox, Jeanine watched Bertram from a distance. He looked like he was happily chatting away to someone. She smiled to herself as she closed the door and went in to deal with Lyle.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

When Bertram got back to the farm, he brought the dogs into the barn. He set them down carefully, and then threw some fresh straw into an empty stall. He looked in the tack room and found an old blanket. In the far corner of the stall, he made a little bed, all the while talking softly to the dog.

When he was done, he coaxed the dog into the stall. She seemed to realize that this was all for her, so she carefully picked up her puppy and limped over to the blanket. Bertram looked at her paws and realized that the pads were all cracked.

Then he examined the pup. He was tiny and mostly black, but he had a little more white on his tail than his mother, and his front paws were white, too.

"I'll take care of your feet in a little while. First, you need some food and water. I'll be back in a jiffy, okay." As he talked, he stroked the dog's head and scratched her ears. She tilted her head in answer.

When he walked out of the barn, he stopped at the water trough and dipped his handkerchief in, wiping his brow and neck. Missouri was in the middle of a heat wave, and it showed no sign of breaking.

Walking into the kitchen, he saw his mother sitting at the table. "Hi, Ma, I'm home. Is Pa around?" As he talked, he looked through the pantry shelves and pulled out a chunk of bread. Then he opened the icebox to examine its contents. He spied a little piece of roast left from last night, and he pulled it out.

Ma Webb sipped at her lemonade as she scratched out a list of supplies that they needed. "He took the buggy over to Mrs. Alden's. He was worried about her in this heat." She looked up to find him rummaging through the icebox. "Land sakes, Bertram. What are you doing?"

"I found a dog by the river," he said, closing the icebox and clutching the bread and roast. "She's just skin and bones, and she's got a puppy to feed. I brought them home and put them in the barn. Do you think Pa will let me keep them . . . or maybe at least the mother?" He pulled out an old pot from the cupboard and headed back outside, with Ma following him. Stopping at the water trough, he filled the pot. Then the two of them headed toward the barn door.

Just before they entered, he looked up and saw Jeanine coming up the road on her bicycle.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you," Bertram said to his mother. "Jeanine is coming for some eggs." He nodded his head in Jeanine's direction.

"Hey, Jeanine," he hollered as she rolled into the yard. "I gotta get this stuff into the barn. Come on in." He kept walking through the barn doors, and Ma Webb stopped to wait for the girl.

"Hello, Jeanine. It's lovely to see you, dear," she said warmly.

"Good evening, Ma Webb," Jeanine answered. "I was hoping to get some eggs and maybe just a half-bottle of milk." Although the tree had taken her barn down, by good fortune, the Morse's cow was uninjured; but between the grief of having to bury her father, and now having no barn, the Webbs had offered to house her livestock at their farm until a new barn was built.

"Of course, dear, but I do believe Bertram is waiting for you in the back of the barn. He'll be anxious to show you what he brought home."

The two women walked into the barn. Sunbeams were peaking through cracks in the walls and the sounds were muffled. They could hear Bertram's voice murmuring softly in the back corner.

"Hi, Bertram," Jeanine called out. As she rounded corner into the stall, her eyes were adjusting to the dark. "I saw you cut through the field earlier. What in tarnation were you carrying?"

He turned to her and grinned. "Come see," he offered, holding his hand out to her. She took his hand and leaned on him while she sat down in the hay. It took her a minute to see the dog and pup in the corner on the dark blanket. The mother dog was chewing on the chunk of bread. She stopped for a minute to drink the water from the old pot.

Jeanine let out a little "oh" as she watched the pup wiggle over to suckle from its mother.

"Here, Ma," Bertram said. "Come sit over on the other side of me, then you can see better." Ma Webb had been hanging back in the doorway of the stall, watching her son and the young woman sitting next to him. She could see how taken he was with the girl, but she wondered if Lyle Chatterton would be making an offer of marriage soon. And if so, what would Jeanine answer.

"No, that's all right, son. I'll see them later. I want to get in and get those biscuits started. Jeanine, would you like to join us for dinner this evening? I have a chicken pie in the making."

"That sounds divine, Ma Webb, but . . ." She looked at Bertram's hopeful face and answered, "You know what? I'd love to."

Ma Webb headed back to the house to check her pie in the oven and start the biscuits. Bertram and Jeanine sat in the dark barn, patting the dog and talking softly.

"What will you call her?" Jeanine asked. She watched his face as he held his hand out and the dog licked his fingers.

"I think, maybe Shelley," he answered.

"Shelley? Where'd that come from?"

"There's an author named Mary Shelley," Bertram said. "She wrote a book that I'd really love to read. It's about a scientist who takes body parts from dead people and puts them together to_ make_ a man." His eyes were bright and excited as he described the book to her.

"Oh Bertram, that sounds dreadful," she replied. "How horrifying."

"Well, sure . . . but that's what science is. That's how we learn stuff. Think of it from an inventor's point of view. It's genius." He was looking at her intently.

"Bertram, promise me you won't start digging up bodies and taking their parts for your experiments."

He laughed and patted her hand that was linked through his arm. "I promise. I'm more into making gadgets, anyway.

"I'll be right back," Bertram said. He got up and went back to the tack room and found a small can of balm. He brought it out and, while the dog ate, Bertram spread the balm on the pads of her feet, massaging them and talking softly to her. Jeanine sat quietly and watched him with a small smile on her face.

They sat for a few more minutes patting the dog. Then Bertram looked at her and asked, "Do you want to go see my workshop? I've got some new stuff going on."

Jeanine smiled. "I'd love to, Bertram. You're so clever; I just love seeing the things you come up with."

Bertram grinned and blushed. "Thanks, Jeanine. You know, other than my parents and my friend, Agatha, you're the only one I let in my workshop," he said as he stood up and took her hands in his to help her up.

"Bertram," Ma Webb called from the barn door. "Are you two still back there? Can you run out to the garden and get me some vegetables for a little salad?"

Bertram sighed and said, "Sure, Ma. I'll be right there."

Jeanine looked down at his hands holding hers. Then she looked back up at his grinning face.

"Coming?" he asked. They walked out of the barn holding hands.

As far back as Jeanine could remember, she and Bertram would walk holding hands. She had always thought of him as a good friend; why did things feel so different tonight?

They went around the barn to the garden and Bertram got on his knees and picked through the carrot plants. "This looks good," he said, as he pulled out a large carrot. "Let's get one more though. I like lots of carrots in my salad."

Jeanine laughed. Getting down on her knees next to him, they foraged through the greens looking for a glimpse of orange. "Oh here's one," she said.

They both reached for the same carrot. "Let's pull it out together," Bertram said, laughing as his hand covered hers.

They looked at each other, grinning. Bertram looked into her sparkling eyes and thought his insides were going to explode.

They continued harvesting, all the while giggling and laughing and racing each other for the best picks.

They came back from the garden, still laughing. Bertram held the door open for her as they walked into the kitchen. "Here, Ma," he said, laying the vegetables on the counter.

"Thank you, Bertie," Ma Webb said. "Now, you two run along. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

"That's cute. She still calls you Bertie," Jeanine said, remembering his childhood nickname, as they strolled across the yard towards Bertram's workshop.

He frowned and shook his head. "She never remembers that I'm a grown man now." He unlocked the door to his workshop and started to open the door. "Wait here," he said. "I gotta make sure it's okay to come in. There's a few things that aren't ready to be seen yet."

With that, he mysteriously slipped through the door and closed it behind him. Once inside, he pushed the "Smooching Machine" out of sight and pulled a set of shelves in front of it. He had started building it last March. It was an old, broken phonograph from his uncle; with a few additions and alterations, it now sprayed out a potent "love potion" that was designed to encourage kissing. His plan had been to test it with Jeanine at the May Day town picnic . . . but then her father had been killed. He had figured that he should wait a while before declaring his intentions, but before he knew what had happened, Lyle stepped in and took control of her life.

They were in the workshop for almost an hour. He showed her his matchless wonder, the automatic fertilizer spreader and his plans that he had just sketched up for an automatic chicken feeder.

They heard the buggy drive up as Pa Webb came home from checking on their elderly neighbor. Bertram stuck his head out of the door and hollered to his father. "Hey, Pa. Jeanine and I are in here. Supper's almost ready though. We'll be in soon."

Harold Webb waved acknowledgement to his son as he and his old yellow lab, Sophie, made their way toward the house. He yelled back over his shoulder, "Don't blow anything up between now and then, you hear?"

Bertram frowned at his father and pulled his head back in the door to find Jeanine trying to hide her giggles.

"He has no faith in me and my inventions," Bertram said, sitting on a stool and putting his chin in his hand.

"Oh Bertram, really. I'm sure that's not true," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "But you can't deny that you've had more than your fair share of explosions." She giggled again.

He looked up and tried to scowl, but her smile was infectious. He soon found himself giggling along with her as he recounted his failed attempt at making a high-octane hog mash, which was the cause of the latest explosion that left a huge hole in the barn ceiling. When they heard Ma holler from the kitchen door, they locked up the workshop and walked back to the house for dinner.

As they got closer, Jeanine said to Ma Webb, "I can't get over how lovely your house looks tonight. The walls are so white, and the flowers so colorful . . . it's just breathtaking."

Ma smiled as she held the door open for them. "Oh that's Bertram's doing. He gave the house a good coat of paint last week. Didn't he do a nice job?"

Bertram blushed and shrugged his shoulders. Holding the chair out for Jeanine, she sat down and looked up at him. "Thank you, Bertie," she said with a wide grin.

This time, he succeeded at scowling at her, causing her to laugh again.

"I'd love to get my house painted. It is looking a bit run down," Jeanine commented.

"I'll do it for you," offered Bertram. A light bulb practically flashed above his head as an idea took shape. "That's it!" he exclaimed loudly, making the others all jump. "That's what I can do for your birthday. I'll paint your house for you."

"Oh goodness, Bertram. No, no - really. That would take you days," she protested.

"Dad, you can spare me for four or five days, can't you?" Bertram asked.

Harold Webb thought for a minute . . . _four or five days . . . without Bertram blowing anything up?_ "Sure, son. I think it's a wonderful idea."

"There. It's settled then," Bertram said, giving his head a nod. "When do you want me to start?" he asked, looking at Jeanine. "I already have over half a bucket of whitewash and some brushes. I can get some more supplies in town in the morning, Then I can come over after lunch . . . if you want me to, that is."

Jeanine laughed. "Well, tomorrow is fine, then. I'll see you right after lunch."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Later that evening, Bertram walked Jeanine home. He was pushing her bicycle for her, and there were eggs, milk and some extra biscuits in the basket.

"I'm real glad that you're going to let me paint your house, Jeanine. I'll do a real good job," Bertram said, nodding and smiling at her.

"I know you will, Bertram," she answered. "But I do wish you'd let me pay you."

"Oh, no. Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "I told you, I want to do something special for your birthday, and this is it."

She linked her arm in his and laid her head on his shoulder as they strolled slowly down the road. "Well, that's just the sweetest thing you could do," she said.

Bertram had a hard time not leaning down and kissing the top of her head. He did inhale deeply, though. "You used that lavender sachet again, didn't you? The one you got from the mail-order catalog?" he asked. "You sure do smell good."

Jeanine chuckled. "Yes, I did. I'm pleased that you noticed."

"Oh, I always notice _you_, Jeanine," he replied shyly. He stopped walking and turned toward her. "Jeanine, can I tell you something?"

"Of course, Bertram. We're friends . . . you can say anything to me," she answered, intrigued by what he might come out with.

"Today was the best day I ever had. Just - just sittin' in the barn with you and the dogs, and then pickin' vegetables in the garden . . . and then showing you the inventions in my workshop. I sure did like today."

"I had a lovely day, too, Bertram," Jeanine answered. It seemed like he had more he wanted to say, but then he saw that they were already in front of Jeanine's house. They walked quietly up the front walkway. Jeanine took her things out of the basket while Bertram went up and opened the door for her.

As she started to go in, Bertram said, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Jeanine - right after lunch. I think I can finish by Saturday."

Jeanine looked up at him in the darkness. The sun had gone down and the moon was peeking over the treetops. She couldn't explain why her heart was racing. "Okay, Bertram. That sounds wonderful. Thank you again."

Bertram backed up a couple of steps. He was dangerously close to going off the edge of the steps. His foot stepped back a bit and he could feel that there was nothing there. Grabbing the railing to keep from falling, he looked back. "Ooh, that was close," he said, chuckling. "I'll be more careful when I'm up on the ladder, I promise."

"Good night, Bertram. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her head leaning against the door.

Bertram sighed. "Good night, Jeanine." Then he smiled and turned and tripped down the steps. "I'm okay. I'm . . . uh, okay." Getting up, he brushed himself off and strolled nonchalantly up the walkway with his hands in his pockets. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw that she was still in the doorway watching him go.

He raised his hand to wave once more and walked into the gate. "Umph," he uttered.

Jeanine's laughter carried across the yard. "Good night, Bertram," she called out.

* * *

Wednesday morning dawned, promising to be as hot, if not hotter, than Tuesday had been. After tending to Shelley and her pup, Bertram was finally able to get the wood burner running again. He had been up for hours in anticipation of spending the whole day at Jeanine's, so he figured he might as well be productive and fix it. After replacing a couple of parts and making a few adjustments, he had it going.

"Bertram," Ma called. "I have some muffins and coffee ready. Come in and eat before you go."

"Thanks, Ma," he answered. "I'll be right there."

After eating with his parents, Bertram headed to town. He was feeling almost giddy. Smiling brightly, sitting atop the wood burner, he pulled down his goggles and slipped it into gear. The engine roared, and he took off down the street.

As Bertram pulled into town, he parked in front of the general store. Going in, he greeted Mrs. Campbell. "Good Morning, Mrs. Campbell. I'm here to get some supplies. I'm going to be painting Jeanine's house for her this week. I don't need too much, though . . . just maybe two more buckets of white and a new brush."

"Well, that's wonderful, Bertram," she answered. "I'll go out back and get Freddy to bring the paint out to you."

"Thank you, Ma'am," he replied with a grin.

While he waited, he was browsing around the store. He saw some decorative molding sitting on a back shelf. They were rather dusty, but looked like they could be cleaned up nicely and painted.

"Hey, Mrs. Campbell," he called out. "Could I get this molding? This would look real nice around her porch."

"Oh, those old things? Why they've been there for the longest time. I'd love to get rid of them," she said. "I'll give them to you at a sale price."

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "She's gonna love it. But don't tell her, okay. I want to surprise her."

Mrs. Campbell smiled at Bertram. It was no secret in town that he had a crush on the girl. A loud engine rumbled by outside. Mrs. Campbell frowned, recognizing it as Lyle Chatterton's motorcar.

Bertram heard the car, too. He sauntered over to the window and looked out, standing there with his hands in his pockets. He watched as Lyle parked in front of the bank and went inside.

By this time, Freddy had come out with the paint. Bertram paid for his purchases and brought everything out and loaded it onto his wood burner. Then he headed over to the new sheet metal shop that had opened next to the hardware store.

When he came out a half hour later, his arms piled high with supplies, he bumped into someone as he headed towards the wood burner.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, lowering the pile in his arms to better see where he was going. It was Lyle Chatterton standing in front of him.

"Webb, what are you up to?" he asked, with a sneer on his face and his hands on his hips.

"I'm just buying stuff for a new invention that I'm working on," Bertram said with a shrug and a frown.

"No. I mean Jeanine. What are you up to with Jeanine?" He sounded quite angry. "Freddy said you bought a bunch of paint and that you were going to paint her house."

"Yeah, that's right," Bertram answered. "I wanted to do something special for her birthday."

"Well, she's _my_ girl, and I don't like the idea of it. Just bring that stuff back. I'm going to hire someone to do it properly," Lyle said with authority.

Bertram put his supplies onto the back of the wood burner and looked back at Lyle. He was scowling. "It's Jeanine's house, not yours. I'll do a fine job for her." He stepped back up onto the boardwalk. "And besides, as far as her being _your_ girl . . ."

Both men were glaring at each other, and they had their fists clenched. Lyle started to raise his in boxing fashion. It was drawing attention.

"Bertram, Lyle, you two just get where you're going." It was the constable. He had just walked out of his office and witnessed the angry exchange. He put his hand out and separated the two men. "Now it's hot and sticky, and people in this town are short-tempered. I don't want any trouble out of you two."

"Sure thing, Constable," Bertram said, backing away. He wiped the sweat off his brow and glared at Lyle again. "I'm headin' to Jeanine's, and you ain't got no call to say different."

Lyle stood on the boardwalk and watched Bertram climb up onto the wood burner and take off down the street. He was conflicted. He wanted to take off after him and continue this discussion at Jeanine's, but his father was expecting him at the office in the Sawmill.

With a foot-stomp and a growl, he turned on his heel and headed off to meet his father.

* * *

Peeking out from the doorway of the Primrose Junction Hotel, was Anita Banks. She had also watched the argument and couldn't wait to get over to Jeanine's house and tell her about it. Anita had been Jeanine's best friend for the past few years, ever since she moved to Primrose Junction, and she had no love for Lyle Chatterton. She hurried over to the livery stable, got her buggy hitched and headed out of town as quickly as she could get her old nag to go.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Jeanine was out watering her garden when Anita drove up in her buggy. She smiled when she saw her friend pull up. While Jeanine was tall with chestnut waves, Anita was a petite little thing with curly blond hair, usually pulled up in a messy bun.

"Jeanine, we don't have much time," she said. "Bertram will be here any minute."

"We've got a little while to talk," Jeanine answered as she approached the buggy. "He just stopped and checked in with me. He's got to drop some supplies off at his house first, then he'll be back. What's going on?"

As the two girls unhooked Esther, the old nag, and took her to the water trough, Anita told Jeanine all about the confrontation in town.

As they walked back to the front porch, Anita said, "And then Bertram said 'As far as Jeanine being _your_ girl . . .' and right then, Constable Frank broke it up. What do you suppose he was going to say?" Anita was wide-eyed.

"Well," said Jeanine thoughtfully. "I think when he walked me home last night . . . he was going to say that he liked me. I'm sure of it. But then we got to my house, and he stopped. Oh, what am I going to do, Anita? I'm supposed to be Lyle's girl, but then there's Bertram . . ."

The girls climbed the steps and sat in the rockers. Anita shook her head. "What do you even see in Lyle? I can't figure it out."

Jeanine looked sadly over to where the barn had once stood. "He's done so much to help me since . . . since . . ." She couldn't continue.

Anita looked over to the old barn site. "Sure, he's helped you out. But Bertram would have, too. You just haven't given him the chance. Lyle has monopolized every social moment of yours ever since that day."

"I just feel indebted to him is all," Jeanine answered.

"Okay, let's look at it this way . . . when was the last time you spent with Bertram? What did you do, how did you feel?" Anita was prodding her, knowing that Jeanine preferred Bertram's company to Lyle's; she just needed to get her to admit it.

Jeanine smiled. "That's easy," she answered. "Last night. I had dinner with his family. We sat in the barn tending to the stray dog that he found, then we harvested the garden, and we spent some time in his workshop looking at his inventions."

"Aaaaannnnnd, did you enjoy yourself?"

"Oh yes," Jeanine said, nodding vigorously. "He's so clever, and he just makes me laugh all the time."

"All right, now let's take Lyle," Anita said, not missing the slight frown on Jeanine's face. She continued, "Without factoring in that you feel guilty or indebted to him, be honest . . . when was the last time you did anything that enjoyable with Lyle?"

Jeanine thought. Her brow was furrowed. She stopped rocking, then she started again. Finally, she looked at Anita and said, "Well maybe Saturday, when we go to the carnival . . . maybe that will be as nice as last night was."

"Humph," Anita answered. "I doubt it. Face it – Lyle's a cad. He's pompous and rude, and he doesn't give a wit about anyone else's feelings."

"Oh Anita. Don't be so harsh," Jeanine said. "Really, he's not as bad as all that."

Anita had a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue, but at that moment, Bertram came roaring into the yard on his wood burner. As he came to a stop, the wood burner sputtered and jerked. Bertram hopped down and took off his goggles, his face dirty save for the shape of the goggles around his eyes.

"Hi, Ladies," he called out, a huge grin on his smudged face.

Jeanine couldn't help giggling. Anita just looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"He's adorable and you know it," she whispered to Jeanine.

Jeanine ignored her and yelled over to him, "Hi, Bertram. Did you have lunch yet?" She started down the steps to greet him.

"Yeah, Ma had a plate ready for me when I got home," he answered. He started to unload his paint and supplies. "Hey, Anita. What are you up to today?"

"Oh, I was just taking a little ride for my lunch break. I've got to head back to the hotel though. I promised my Aunt that I'd help with the dinner crowd." She untethered Esther and led the nag to the buggy. Jeanine came over to help her hitch the horse. Anita whispered, "You make sure and tell me _everything_ tomorrow, you hear?"

* * *

Once Bertram got everything unloaded into a neat pile in the front yard, he leaned his tall ladder up onto the roof of the porch. He climbed up and hoisted himself onto the roof to examine the exterior wall and the window casings of the second floor.

Jeanine watched him with interest. She went into the house and up the stairs, appearing a minute later in one of the windows overlooking the porch. She opened it up and leaned out.

"What do you think?" she asked, startling him. He started to fall backward, but Jeanine caught his hand.

"Sorry, Bertram," she said, hiding a smile, while he regained his balance and his composure.

Bertram had been pushing and pulling on the wood all around the windows. "It looks solid. That's good. Just a good scraping and a new coat of paint, and this house'll be just right." He grinned at her.

He pulled a paint scraper out of his back pocket and scraped off some loose paint chips. "This will go pretty fast up here. There's really not a lot of area to cover."

"All right, Bertram. I'll be out in the garden, doing a little weeding and watering. Holler if you need anything. I'll try to keep you supplied with water."

"All right. Thanks, Jeanine," he said as she shut the window. Bertram kept scraping, whistling happily.

He was feeling quite proud to be working so hard for Jeanine and was fervently hoping that she would notice. He may not have the financial stability of the Chattertons, but even Jeanine would have to admit that he was a much harder worker than Lyle would ever be.

Throughout the afternoon, Jeanine would bring water to a very appreciative Bertram. He had shed his outer shirt and was just down to a t-shirt and his overalls, with one strap undone. He had his straw hat on to shield his eyes, and a red bandana hanging out of his pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"Bertram," Jeanine said to him after a few hours of straight hard work. "Why don't you take a little break?"

He had finished the front of the house and had moved to the side.

"Cuz I'm almost in the shade. See?" he answered, pointing to the shade of the big willow tree on the side of the house. "Besides, I really want to get this side finished today. That way, I'll be able to finish the other two sides by lunchtime tomorrow. Then I can get busy painting."

"Well, all right, but I don't want you to think I'm such a task-master."

He turned around and grinned at her. Her heart flipped over.

"Well, I'm going to insist on feeding you tonight. I have a chicken cooking in the oven with some roasting vegetables. I'll give you warning when it's ready."

"All right, Jeanine," he said. While he worked, he could smell the chicken cooking and his mouth watered. He let himself indulge in a little afternoon daydream; in his mind, he and Jeanine got married and had a grand party with all their friends and family. He was just getting to the good part - the wedding night - when Jeanine came around the corner of the house.

"Bertram?" she called.

He jumped and the scraper in his hand went flying, hitting the window to the back of the kitchen. "What?" he squeaked.

Jeanine jumped back as the scraper bounced towards her. "Oh my goodness," she yelped.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry, Jeanine," he cried as he picked the scraper up. "You just startled me is all."

"It's all right. I was just coming to say that I just pulled dinner out of the oven. Why don't you wash up and come on in?"

"Sure, I'm just finishing this wall. Give me five more minutes to get this last little bit." He nodded and pointed to the last corner of the house.

"All right, see you soon." She turned and walked back into the house, pausing once to look back over her shoulder at him. She had been indulging in a few daydreams of her own throughout the day.

Two hours later, Bertram was standing by the wood burner saying goodbye to Jeanine. They had had a lovely dinner, and the conversation had been mostly about Bertram's automatic chicken feeder – an idea for a new invention that he was anxious to put to the test.

"Thanks again for dinner, Jeanine," he said shyly as he scuffed his toe into the dirt. "It was so good, my gut's about to bust." He patted his stomach gently for emphasis.

"You're welcome, Bertram. It's the least I can do, with how hard you worked today." She handed him a little covered tin. "Here are some leftovers to take home to Shelley. She needs all she can get to fatten up and feed that pup."

Bertram smiled and took the tin. "Thanks, Jeanine. You're swell."

"Are you planning on spending some time in the workshop tonight?" she asked him. "You still have a few hours 'til bedtime."

"Yeah, I bought some stuff for my chicken feeder today while I was in town. I might get them laid out. I won't stay up too late, though. I want to be here at sunrise tomorrow."

"All right. I'll see you then." She reached up and kissed his cheek. "You were wonderful today," she said.

Bertram blushed clear down to his toes. "Aw, you know I'm happy to do this for you." He climbed up onto the wood burner and pulled on his goggles. Waving one last time, he pulled out and headed home.

Jeanine stood by the gate and watched him go. Then she slowly walked back to the house, hugging herself. She stopped halfway there and looked up at the summer sky. A shooting star rocketed by, and she made a wish.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

When Bertram got home, he hollered to his parents that he was home, then went straight into the barn to bring the food to Shelley. She clearly hadn't moved much throughout the day, although the biscuits and water he had left her were gone.

She already felt a little fatter as he ran his hand down her side, talking to her gently. After he gave her the chicken and carrots from Jeanine, he softly massaged more balm onto the pads of her feet. He rubbed as much of it in as he could, so that she wouldn't lick it off later.

The puppy woke up and crawled over to suckle again. Bertram gently picked him up and examined him. His little belly was extended, indicating he had been nursing frequently, which Bertram was happy to see. His eyes were still closed, but Bertram suspected not for much longer.

He sat with the dogs for a few more minutes. Then he got up and pulled a workbench over near the stall. He got busy laying out the molding that he had bought at the general store. As he worked, he kept up a quiet narrative to Shelley about what he was doing for Jeanine and about how much he liked her. He was unaware that his father had come into the barn and was standing quietly by the dozing cows.

Harold Webb leaned against the post and watched his son with affection. Even though sometimes it seemed like he was always angry with Bertram for something, he really was quite proud of him.

"Is that part of another invention of yours?" he asked, causing Bertram to jump and drop the piece that was in his hand.

"Oh, hi, Pa," he said. "No, this is some molding that I bought in town. I'm going to put a fresh coat of paint on it and put it up on Jeanine's porch Saturday while she's gone."

"Now Bertram, I heard what you were just saying to the dog. I can't help but wonder if you're setting yourself up for some heartache." Pa Webb shook his head sadly. "Lyle Chatterton has laid his claim."

"He hasn't even put a ring on her finger yet. He just assumes." Bertram pulled a stool over and sat on it, while he cleaned off the decorative pieces. Pa came over and did the same. The two men worked side by side, not talking for a few minutes. Finally, Bertram started talking again.

"He always tells her what to do. Men like him . . . they'll tell you a woman needs to be told; they'll even tell you that the woman likes it that way." He shook his head, frowning. "Not Jeanine. I've seen her face sometimes when she doesn't know I'm looking. She gets real mad at him. She won't put up with it much longer; and if she knows that I like her, too, maybe . . . maybe she'll choose me instead."

Pa patted his son on the back. "Well, I hope you're right. She's a right sweet thing, and I'd love to have her as part of the family. But keep in mind, now I know Jeanine's not a gold digger, but there's something to be said for financial stability."

"She wouldn't marry him for his money, Pa. I know she wouldn't." Bertram stood up and opened the bucket of paint that he had left behind that morning. He pulled a couple of brushes down from the tools on a nearby shelf, and handed one to his father.

As they started painting the pieces, Pa kept half an eye on Bertram. Finally, Bertram said softly, so Pa almost didn't hear him, "She kissed me."

Pa almost dropped his brush. "What? When?"

"Tonight as I was getting ready to leave," Bertram said with a small grin. "It was just a little kiss . . . on my cheek . . . but she's noticing me, Pa. She is."

Pa was more surprised than he wanted to admit. "Well, don't read too much into it," he advised. "If Chatterton found that out, he'd put his courtship into full swing, I guarantee. Word about town is that he's right worked up about your painting job."

"I'm not afraid of him, Pa," Bertram said, shaking his head. "He's his own worst enemy. He's going to be such a jerk to me that Jeanine can't help but get mad at him. If for no other reason than that she and I have been friends forever." Bertram grinned at the thought of how Jeanine always defended him to Lyle.

The two men spent the better part of an hour painting the pieces of molding; sometimes quiet, sometimes talking, but mostly, just enjoying the camaraderie. When they were finished, they picked up the tools and put everything away, and Bertram went over to check on Shelley one last time before bed.

"She seems to be doing better," Pa said. "Sophie was in here most of the afternoon keeping her company."

"That's good," answered Bertram. "I was hoping they'd get along. Sophie's a fine dog."

Pa scratched his chin as he said, "I noticed that you've been calling her Shelley. You planning on keeping her?"

"I'd sure like to, Pa. I'm already real attached." Bertram looked at his father hopefully. "You wouldn't mind another dog around, would you?"

"What about the pup?" Pa asked.

"Well, I was going to suggest to Jeanine that she take him. She doesn't have a dog, and they're such good company. I haven't said anything yet, though." Bertram sat in the hay patting Shelley and scratching her ears. "If she doesn't want him, I'm sure there's a few people around that would take him if I put a sign up in town. Freddy Campbell has mentioned before that he'd like a dog."

Pa nodded. "That's true, but you're hoping that Jeanine will take him, aren't you?" He grinned at his son.

Bertram grinned back and nodded. "I'm going to sleep out here with them tonight, Pa. I'll see you for breakfast." He curled up in the hay with his head near Shelley's. The dog reached over and licked his nose.

Pa chuckled as he headed back to the house, calling softly, "Goodnight, son. See you in the morning."

* * *

Bright and early Thursday morning, Bertram showed up at Jeanine's house. When she walked into her kitchen to heat up some water for coffee, he was already out at the back wall scraping. She stuck her head out the door, all too aware of the fact that she was still in her nightclothes.

"Bertram, I knew you wanted an early start, but I wasn't expecting you quite _this_ early," she said with a laugh. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I've got to put some decent clothes on."

Bertram grinned and blushed as he looked over at her. His heart tumbled when he saw her tangled waves and just a glimpse of the nightgown she was wearing. "Sorry, Jeanine, I was just anxious to get started. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, not really," she said, trying to still the pounding in her heart. "I'll be back in a bit with some coffee, all right?"

He nodded and went back to scraping.

True to her word, she brought him coffee and biscuits a little later in the morning. As he took a break and they sat under the willow tree sipping on coffee, Jeanine told him that she had to go to work in town. "I'm doing a shift at the general store," she said. "I could try to beg off, if you'd like."

"Oh no, no – don't do that," Bertram said, shaking his head. "I'll be fine here. I . . . I suppose that Lyle will be bringing you home," he added.

She hung her head and picked at the grass near her feet. "Yes, I suppose he will."

"What time do you think you'll get out?" he asked, looking everywhere but at her.

"Oh, some time early afternoon, I reckon. Anita's aunt makes meatloaf in the hotel dining room on Thursdays. Would you like some for dinner tonight? I could bring some home," she offered.

"I wouldn't want to trouble you. I brought food today. You don't have to feed me, you know." He glanced at her, watching her pick at the grass.

"I want to, though. I so appreciate all the hard work you're doing for me."

Bertram frowned as a thought entered his head. "Will you eat with me? What about Lyle? I can't picture the three of us sitting down at your table to eat together."

Jeanine tried to picture that in her head. "I guess I didn't think of that. I'll figure something out, Bertram. I've got to go, though. I'll see you later."

Just before she stood up to go, Bertram thought for a minute that she was going to kiss him again. She started to lean towards him, and he sat up a little straighter; but then she stood up and hurried up the driveway.

As she walked away, he called out, "Bye Jeanine. I hope you have a good day at the store. See you later." Then he set his coffee cup and the plate just inside the kitchen on the counter and slowly climbed the ladder to start scraping the second story. As he scraped, he could see Jeanine in the distance walking up the road towards town. Thinking of the soft kiss on his cheek last night and her flustered demeanor this morning, Bertram grinned to himself . . . and started whistling again.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Jeanine had left for town a few minutes earlier than she really needed to. Her intention was to stop at the hotel before her shift and check in with Anita.

As soon as she walked through the hotel door, Anita grabbed her arm and pulled her into the back office.

"Well? Well? What happened yesterday? I've been on pins and needles all night thinking about it," she whispered fiercely.

"Oh Anita," Jeanine wailed. "I don't know what to do. You're right. Bertram is the sweetest, most adorable man ever; but I can't just forget all the support that Lyle has given me. I feel indebted to him. He's done so much."

"Well then, you thank Lyle for all he has done. Tell him that you appreciate his efforts, but your heart lies elsewhere. Be strong. You know that you want to be with Bertram."

They heard the bell tinkle as the hotel door opened and closed. Anita stuck her head out the door to see who had entered. Her jaw literally fell when she saw that it was Lyle. Turning her head back to Jeanine, she whispered, "It's Lyle. Now's your chance."

"Anita?" Lyle called out. "Did I just see Jeanine come in here?"

The two girls came out of the back office. Jeanine was biting her lip and wringing her hands. "Oh hi, Lyle," she said, her voice shaking just a bit.

"Hey," he said, ignoring her flustered state. "I can't bring you home today. Pa is sending me to Joplin to pick up some materials for him. I won't be home until Friday night. I guess I'll pick you up on Saturday at 8:00. Be ready early. I want to get to Springfield by 10:00 so we can watch the lumberjack competitions. My cousin, Artie, might be competing. See you then."

He said all that in a rush and was out the door so fast that Jeanine barely had time to process the whole conversation. She grimaced and looked at Anita. "I guess I'm still going to the carnival on Saturday."

"But look on the bright side," Anita said with a huge smile. "Two days of Bertram with no Lyle in sight."

The two girls laughed and hugged. Jeanine asked, "Can you ask your aunt to fix me up two dinners to go tonight? I'm going to bring some home to Bertram."

Anita nodded and they parted ways. Jeanine headed over to the general store to start her shift with Mrs. Campbell. With dinner to look forward to that evening, she floated around the store all day. Mrs. Campbell remarked more than once that she looked like a woman in love.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the Morse residence, Bertram made steady work. As he had hoped, he was done scraping well before lunch. He was on the side of the house in the shade of the willow tree, stirring the paint and pouring some into a smaller container to bring up the ladder with him, when he heard the unwelcome sound of Lyle Chatterton's motorcar pull up in front of the house.

Bertram hoped that once Lyle realized that Jeanine wasn't home, he'd keep going; but it turned out that Lyle was looking for Bertram.

"Hey – Plow Boy!" Lyle yelled as he stood by the corner of the house with his arms folded across his chest.

Bertram sighed, put his paint down and turned towards Lyle. "What do you want, Chatterton?" he asked.

"You still insist on doing this?" he asked, waving at the house.

"Yes, I do," Bertram answered. "And Jeanine is pleased as punch about it." He smiled smugly.

"I've got to go out of town for the next two days," Lyle said with a scowl. "You try anything with my girl while I'm gone and I will thrash you good when I get back. Do you hear me?"

Bertram narrowed his eyes and sneered. His arms hung at his sides almost as if he was in a shoot-out. "You try it, Chatterton, and I will whip you with a willow branch. You'll be so covered in welts, your own ma won't recognize you . . . and besides, Jeanine is free to see who she wants. You don't control her."

The two men stared each other down, until finally, Lyle huffed and turned back to his car. He hollered back over his shoulder for good measure, "I mean it, Webb. I will thrash you."

After he heard Lyle's motorcar drive away, Bertram decided to take an early lunch break. He grabbed the little lunch tin that Jeanine had given him the night before. His mother had packed him some bread and cheese, an apple and a few cookies that she had baked the night before.

He walked down to the river that flowed behind the Morse and Webb properties. Sitting on a log hanging over the bank, with his feet in the water, Bertram ate his lunch. He thought hard about his current situation. He knew how he felt about Jeanine. He _thought_ that she liked him, too, but wasn't sure how much; did she like him enough to give up Lyle? He knew that Lyle wouldn't give her up without a fight – but he didn't want it to come to fisticuffs – not that he was afraid of fighting Lyle, he just knew that Jeanine wouldn't like it.

When he finished his lunch and drank a long, cool drink of water, he got up and walked barefoot, back to the house. He wanted to get this side of the house painted before Jeanine got home. His hope was to clean up and have a nice dinner with her, now that he knew Lyle wasn't going to be there, too. He was grateful that he had thought to bring a nice pair of pants and a dress shirt in his wood burner to put on later.

Whistling a catchy tune, he climbed the ladder and put the first paint strokes on the house.

When Jeanine arrived back at the house late that afternoon, she could see Bertram down at the river. Though he was rather far away from the house, she could see that he was putting a shirt on and buttoning it up. Smiling to herself, she brought dinner into the house and laid out the table.

A few minutes later, he knocked on the back door as he was coming in.

"Hey, Jeanine, are you in here?" he called out.

"Here I am, Bertram," she answered as she came down the stairs. "I was just freshening up a little. My this heat just isn't giving, is it?" Her heart thumped at the sight of him. He had scrubbed his face and neck, and the edges of his hair were damp. He had put on his best pants and a white button-up shirt with a pair of black suspenders. "My, you look handsome," she said, blushing a little.

"I do?" he asked with wide eyes. He saw that she had everything ready at the table. It looked cozy and welcoming. He glanced back up at her and held the chair for her to sit down. Then he sat across from her, and they awkwardly watched each other for a moment . . . then they both burst out laughing.

"What are we so nervous for?" she asked.

He shrugged as he dug into his meatloaf. "I don't know. How was work? Did anything interesting happen in town today?"

"Well, seeing as you were here painting, no. Nothing interesting."

Bertram chuckled as he tore off a chunk of his dinner roll. "I do tend to create a ruckus, don't I?" he asked.

"Yes," Jeanine answered. "I'd say that's an understatement. Although I did hear that Mr. Shelton finally found someone to fix his grandfather's statue and put the head back on."

Bertram burst out laughing. "That's good. I felt kind of bad about that one. I didn't figure the anchor on my wood burner would pull the darn thing right over like that."

They continued chatting until they had eaten their fill. Then Bertram helped Jeanine clean up the kitchen. She washed the dishes, and he dried. Bertram didn't think there was another woman in all the world that he could feel so happy and comfortable with.

After cleaning up, Bertram headed out to the front porch. "Well, I guess I'll be going then, Jeanine."

She had followed him out and sat on the top step. "All right, I'll see you in the morning, though."

"Yeah, I figure tomorrow, I can get the back and most of the other side done. Are you going to be home or are you working again?" he asked shyly.

"Well, I'm not working, but I'm supposed to go see Mrs. Alden and help her with some sewing. Oh, I've been meaning to ask you, how are Shelley and the pup doing?"

"Oh, they're coming along just swell," he answered as he leaned against the porch railing with his hands in his pockets. The affection in his voice was impossible to miss when he talked about Shelley. "She's eating real good now and the pup is getting stronger. I figure his eyes will be opening soon. The pads on her feet look lots better, too."

"That's good. She's so lucky that you found her," Jeanine said with a wistful tone.

"Uh, yeah," he answered, shrugging bashfully. "I was wondering, Jeanine, if . . . if you'd like the little pup. I figure he'll be able to leave his mother some time in late October."

"Really? Oh, Bertram, do you mean it?" she asked, scooting forward in her excitement. "I thought you meant to keep them both."

"Well, I figured you might be lonely here by yourself and he could . . . well, he could keep you company." He shifted back and forth on his feet as he talked.

Jeanine stood up and linked her arm in his as they walked toward the wood burner. "That's awful sweet of you, Bertram. If you really mean it, I . . . I'd love to have him."

"Good. It's settled then. Why don't you come back to my house tomorrow for dinner. Then you can spend some time with him."

"All right. That sounds wonderful," she said, clasping her hands up to her heart and smiling. She looked deep into his eyes and he felt his insides turn to mush. "Good night, Bertram."

"G-G-Good night, Jeanine," he stuttered. Then he climbed into the wood burner as quick as he could, waved goodbye and spun his tires racing out of her yard.

Jeanine stood by the gate, watching the wood burner disappear in a cloud of dust. Then she sighed heavily as she walked slowly back to her porch. She glanced once over at the empty space where her barn had been, then she went inside and closed the door behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

On Friday morning, by the time Bertram got up, it was already blistering hot out. He yawned and stretched and shuffled out to the kitchen and stuck his head under the high faucet.

"Oh Bertram, really," Ma Webb scolded as she swatted him away.

"But it's hot, Ma," he whined. "And I'm going to be painting all day."

"Well, bring a change of clothes, so you can take a dip in the river from time to time," she suggested.

"Actually, Jeanine's not even going to be there," he remembered. "I won't need anything to swim in," he said with a grin.

Bertram ate breakfast with his mother and father, spent a little time with Shelley and the pup, then headed off happily in his wood burner to paint at Jeanine's.

She was waiting for him on her front porch when he got there. She needed to go help Mrs. Alden for the day, but wanted to visit with Bertram for a few minutes before she left.

Bertram's stomach fluttered when he pulled in and saw her sitting on the steps. He parked in front of the house and jumped down, smiling at her.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she answered.

"So, you're heading to Mrs. Aldens', huh?" He rocked back and forth on his feet with his hands in his pockets, squinting from the bright sunlight.

"Uh-huh. I'll be home early this afternoon. Is it okay with your mother if I come for dinner tonight?" she asked.

"Of course, it is. She loves you," he stated simply. He took his straw hat off and twisted it around in his hands.

"Well, I guess I'll be off then," Jeanine said. She picked up her bike and started to get on.

"Hey, Jeanine?"

"Yes, Bertram?" She looked at him shyly.

He looked her up and down. She was wearing a soft green dress with a white and green hat, and her hair was pulled back with a ribbon.

"You sure do look beautiful," he said, blushing furiously.

Jeanine blushed, too, and smiled up at him. "Why, thank you, Bertram." She pushed off on her bike and looked back over her shoulder at him. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

After Jeanine left, Bertram set up his paint and ladder in the back of the house. Throughout the morning, as he worked, he kept finding himself thinking about living there with Jeanine, marrying her . . . he couldn't get the idea out of his mind.

If he had any chance at all of getting her away from Lyle, though, he would have to be able to support her. He needed to sell an invention.

When he took his lunch break, he walked down to the river. Dropping his clothes in a heap at the edge of the parched grass, he took a refreshing dip. Afterwards, he walked back to the house and sat down on her porch at a little table. He ate his sandwich with one hand, while furiously making notes and adjustments to the sketches of the chicken feeder he had been tinkering with.

He decided to show the plans to his father that night and get his take on the idea. That was risky, though. Pa Webb wasn't always supportive of Bertram's ideas . . . especially since Bertram's last invention for the chicken coop – a prototype for a nest-warmer – had almost set the coop on fire.

This one didn't have any electrical or mechanical parts, though. In fact, it was so simple . . . so deceptively simple that Bertram was almost convinced that it couldn't possibly work. Could it really be this easy? Well . . . once he finished painting Jeanine's house, he'd get it built, then he'd find out. The Greene County Fair was in October; if Bertram could get a prototype ready by then, maybe he could sell it to some chicken farmers at the fair.

Shoving in the last of his sandwich and washing it down with a cup of water, Bertram then wiped his hands on his pants and set out to the side of the house to continue painting.

The afternoon flew by and before he knew it, he had reached his goal of finishing the third side of the house. And just in time . . . he looked up as he was washing the brush out and Jeanine was rolling into the yard on her bicycle.

_How is it possible_, he wondered, _that she looks even better this afternoon than she did this morning?_

"Wow, Bertram," she called out. "You're really coming along fast with that." She came around to the side of the house to see his progress. "I can't believe it. It looks wonderful."

Bertram's heart burst to see how thrilled she was. "I'm sure glad you like it, Jeanine," he said. "Just wait until tomorrow, when I finish the front. I left it for last so you can see it when you come home from the city."

Jeanine's smile faltered. "Oh Bertram, how can you be so casual about the fact that I'm going to the carnival tomorrow with Lyle?" She could see how much he liked her and wondered how it was that he wasn't jealous of the time she spent with Lyle Chatterton.

Bertram studied the conflict in her face. That alone told him what he'd been wondering about . . . she really did like him. He smiled.

"The way I figure it, Jeanine, after spending the whole day with Lyle in Springfield, you'll finally figure out what a cad he is." He tilted his head and shook it as he looked at her. "It don't take a genius to recognize a scoundrel." He bent down to pick his paint supplies up and carried them around to the front of the house. Calling back over his shoulder, he said, "And by the time you get home, you'll be more than ready to dump stupid ol' Lyle Chatterton, and go a'courtin' with someone who'll treat you right."

He dumped his buckets and brushes unceremoniously in a pile at the bottom of the porch steps and turned back to her with a mischievous grin.

She just stood there, stunned . . . staring at him. "Why . . . why Bertram Webb." She put her hands on her hips with authority. "You – you –" She was speechless at his audacity.

He stood there, grinning so proudly, that she finally couldn't help laughing. Walking over to him, she took his hands in hers. "Look who's being a scoundrel," she scolded.

"I'm going to go get the ladder and bring it around front," he said, ignoring her scolding. "Do you need to do anything or get anything inside before we head over to my place?"

"Give me a few minutes," she said. "I'd like to freshen up a bit."

He nodded and watched her walk into the house, leaning against the wood burner as he did so. After all the thinking he had done today while painting, he was ready for some "doing". He was going to tell Jeanine Morse exactly how he felt about her . . . tonight.

He finally wandered over to get the ladder and brought it around to the front of the house.

When Jeanine came back out a short time later, Bertram helped her up onto the wood burner, then he climbed up next to her and started the engine. Turning to her, he smiled. "I sure am glad you're coming for dinner tonight," he said. Then as he pulled out onto the road, he nodded his head and added, "Yup, I have a new phonograph I'd like to play for you."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

When the wood burner pulled into the Webb's yard, Bertram pulled to a stop right in front of his workshop. Jumping down, he jogged around to the other side to help Jeanine down. She put her hands on his shoulders and, as she jumped down, he placed his hands on her waist to hold her steady.

Standing there behind the wood burner, his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders, they stared into each other's eyes. Bertram had a shy smile on his face. Jeanine was conflicted; she felt like she _should_ pull away, but she really didn't want to. Slowly, he slid his arms around her and pulled her into a hug – just a small hug that was over quickly.

"I sure have enjoyed spending time with you this week, Jeanine," he said.

"I've had a nice week, too, Bertram," she answered. She awkwardly stepped back away from him and removed her hands from his shoulders. He felt a sudden coldness where her hands had been.

"I'll be right out," he said as he backed up and unlocked the door to his workshop. "I'm just gonna lay these plans on my desk." He went in and put the sketches and notes for the chicken feeder on his desk in the corner of the room. He hadn't realized that Jeanine had followed him in until she spoke.

"Oh, is this the phonograph that you wanted to play for me?" she asked as she spied the Smooching Machine behind some shelves.

Bertram's head snapped up. "Oh . . . uh . . . maybe later," he said, nervously looking over his shoulder at her. He was suddenly feeling a little anxious about kissing her.

"It's early yet. I'm sure your ma won't have dinner on the table yet. Surely, we have time to listen to a song or two." Bertram watched in horror as she stepped behind the shelves and started to crank the machine up.

"No! Uh . . . no, Jeanine. D-d- don't do that," he stammered. He started to move towards her, but he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He was about halfway across the room when the first notes hit his ears and his nose was bombarded with a heavy spray of his potent "love potion".

Bertram's brain grew muddled. Things were slightly distorted, and he could feel himself propelling forward toward Jeanine. She had a similar glazed look in her eyes. Their bodies met in a crushing embrace, and when his lips touched hers, fireworks exploded. Jeanine's fingers were tangled in his hair, and his arms were crushing her into his chest. There was no coming up for air.

As the passion of their kiss increased, Bertram caressed her back, then he mimicked her hold and tangled his hands up in her long chestnut tresses. This was better than he could have hoped for. He finally had Jeanine Morse in his arms and was kissing her with all the passion he had felt for her for so long now.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, Bertram had an unwelcome thought. It crept and slunk through the thick murky fog in his brain, saying _this isn't right_. He tried to pull back, but she had a death-grip on his head and wasn't letting go. Somehow, he found the presence of mind to put his hands on hers and pull them away from his head.

He spun her around and stepped backward quickly to escape her reach. Then he stumbled over to the Smooching Machine and ripped the record off. He sprawled across the workbench, his chest heaving. Glancing over at Jeanine, she had slumped to the floor in a heap and lowered her head into her hands. Bertram lowered himself to the floor and scooted over closer to her.

"Jeanine? Jeanine, I'm sorry. Are you all right?" He was trying to look into her face, but she had it covered with her hands. "I should never have built that. I'm sorry."

He was sitting cross-legged next to her, and he leaned down and put his head in his hands.

"I shouldn't have made that stupid love potion," he continued. "And I definitely shouldn't have tried to trick you into kissing me."

Slowly, Jeanine lifted her head and looked at him. "Did you know it was going to do that?" she asked him.

"Not exactly," he answered. "I figured it would make you want to kiss me, but I didn't expect it to be that . . . intense. I'm real sorry, Jeanine."

She looked over at him again. He was frowning and his head hung low.

"Bertram?" she asked softly. He looked up at her.

"Why didn't you just ask me? I've . . . I've been wanting to kiss you, too."

He sat up straight and stared at her. "You have? Really?" Then his shoulders slumped. "But now you're probably sore at me." He hung his head low again and played with his shoelace.

She was quiet for a minute, then she put her hand on his arm. "I'm probably not as sore at you as I should be," she said.

Bertram could hear the smile in her voice. He looked back at up at her. "Jeanine?"

"Yes, Bertram."

"Can I kiss you?" He was looking at her so sweetly, with his bangs once again hanging over his eyes, that Jeanine found she couldn't resist him.

"Yes, Bertram," she answered.

Bertram grinned and leaned in slowly. He put one hand on her shoulder and lifted her chin with the other. The kiss was soft and sweet, and when Bertram pulled away, he was pleased to see that the fireworks still exploded.

His heart was once again pounding out of his chest. He stood up and helped Jeanine up. Then he went over to the phonograph and stood looking at it. Glancing at Jeanine, he said, "I guess I don't really need this, do I?"

She linked her arm in his and laughed. "No. No, Bertram, you sure don't."

Bertram laughed, too, and pulled her into a hug again. This time, though, he held her gently with his chin on her head. They stayed like that for another minute, before he finally said, "We'd better get into the house before Ma comes looking for us."

Bertram moved the Smooching Machine back to the corner of the workshop, next to some other failed inventions. As they walked out of the workshop, Ma Webb was just stepping out onto the porch.

"Well, you two, I was just about to call for you. Dinner will be ready shortly," she said. "Come on, step to it." As Ma Webb stepped back into the kitchen to take her biscuits out of the oven, she couldn't help but peek out at Bertram and Jeanine coming across the yard holding hands.

She could see the difference in them tonight. Clearly, _something_ had happened. With any luck, after dinner, she could have a heart-to-heart with Jeanine. She would have to figure a way to get Pa and Bertram out of the house.

Pa was walking into the kitchen from the parlor just as Bertram opened the door for Jeanine. When the young couple came in, Bertram had his arm around her shoulder affectionately. Ma and Pa exchanged a look; Pa raised his eyebrows and Ma shrugged.

"Thanks for having me over again so soon, Ma Webb," Jeanine said sweetly, as Bertram held the chair out for her.

As Ma Webb smiled at her, she couldn't help but think that Jeanine was about to become a more frequent visitor.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Dinner was a delightful affair at the Webbs' home that night. Spirits were high and the food was delicious. Jeanine was grateful for the company. She kept sneaking little glances at Bertram, and blushing furiously when his eyes met hers.

While they ate, Bertram explained the concept of his automatic chicken feeder to his father. To credit Pa Webb, he listened carefully and thoughtfully, instead of berating Bertram for wasting his time on silly inventions. In fact, he was downright impressed.

"That sounds incredible, Bertram," he said as he reached for his third biscuit. Dipping it into the broth of his stew, he continued, "I'll take a look at the plans with you after we finish here."

Bertram looked at Jeanine. He was beaming so brightly, that she couldn't help reaching over and taking his hand, giving it a squeeze.

Pa thought for a minute. "You know," he said. "Jefferson Frye makes a great blend of chicken feed. Maybe you could partner up with him at the fair and sell the two products together. What do you think?"

Bertram put his hand up and stroked his chin. "Hmm, that's not a bad idea at all. "I'll talk to him next week.

Ma Webb saw her opportunity. "That all sounds wonderful, Bertram. It looks like we're finished here. Why don't you and Pa head out to your workshop and look over your design. Jeanine and I can have some nice girl-time. I could use a hand cleaning up in here, and I'd love to chat." She looked at Jeanine with a knowing smile, causing Jeanine to blush six shades of red.

As Jeanine carried some dishes over to the sink, she watched Bertram and Pa Webb walking across the yard. She couldn't help but smile at Bertram's enthusiasm. As he talked to his father, his face was animated and his hands were flying as he described the mechanism.

She turned around to see Ma Webb watching her with a smile on her own face. "All right, 'fess up," she said.

Jeanine turned back and watched Bertram and Pa Webb enter the workshop. Turning back to Ma Webb, she sat down. "Oh, Ma Webb, I didn't expect it at all. I cranked the handle of that phonograph in Bertram's workshop, and . . . and . . . oh, I can't even say it." She covered her face with her hands.

Ma Webb remembered the Smooching Machine from that day of the race a month ago. Agatha Knabenshu turned it on when everybody was arguing in the Webbs' parlor after the race. She remembered the murky feeling and vaguely remembers grabbing Constable Frank in a liplock. "Is that thing still in that workshop? He ought to bust it up."

"I think he might after what happened in there before dinner," Jeanine admitted. "Although . . . it's not like the kiss was unwelcome," she added with a blushing smile. "I was just surprised by the intensity of it. It sure wasn't like kissing that old geezer in your parlor last month. I had no idea when I cranked that handle that that was the same contraption that caused all that trouble that day."

"What about Lyle? Was it like kissing him?" Ma asked, not really sure she wanted an answer.

Jeanine looked shocked. "Oh no! Lyle has _never _kissed me like that." She shook her head and put her chin in her hand. "I never felt anything like that at all when Lyle kissed me. It's usually just a peck on the cheek when he drops me off at the house – there's no . . ." Jeanine blushed. There's no . . . well . . . no _passion_."

Ma Webb looked over at a shelf that contained a photograph taken early in their marriage. Bertram was just a little tyke sitting on her lap. "I remember the first time Harold kissed me . . . _really_ kissed me. It still makes my heart pound to think of it. It still makes my heart pound to kiss him," she said with a nostalgic smile on her face.

Jeanine giggled. "I know what you mean. After Bertram got the Smooching Machine shut off, he sat next to me on the floor. He kissed me for real then, soft and sweet. That was just as wonderful as . . . well, it was wonderful." Her voice trailed off and she started blushing again. "I have to break things off with Lyle, Ma Webb. I have to. It's Bertram that I want to be with."

"Are you sure, dear?" Ma Webb asked. "Nothing would make me happier . . . or Bertram. But you need to be sure of what you're doing."

"Ma, when I see Bertram coming, I smile. I feel all warm inside, and I just can't wait to hear what he's going to say to me; I can't wait to see that smile and those dimples," Jeanine said as she leaned back in the chair. "But when I see Lyle coming, all I feel now is obligation and, well, frustration. Bertram and Anita are right. He really is a cad."

"What will you do about tomorrow?" Ma Webb asked. "You're supposed to go to the carnival with him."

Just as she asked that, Bertram and Pa came walking back into the kitchen.

"You've got to go," Bertram said, surprisingly.

Jeanine looked at him in shock. "You _want_ me to go? Bertram, I can't."

"But . . . it's the carnival. You really want to see that. And besides, well . . . I had a surprise planned for tomorrow, and I didn't want you there when I finished it." He shook his head vehemently. "Really, Jeannine - I _want_ you to go. It's not often you have an opportunity to go to a carnival. There's going to be a lion there and everything. You might even see a real elephant."

"But Bertram," she countered. "I don't want to spend the whole day with Lyle."

Bertram took her hands in his. "Promise me that you'll go and you'll have a good time. You can come back and tell me all about it. I'll be excited just to hear about it."

Jeanine bit her lip. She looked down at his hands holding hers. Looking back up at him and batting her eyelashes, she grinned and said, "I really would like to see an elephant."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Lyle showed up promptly at 8:00 a.m., as he had promised.

Bertram had already been there for over an hour and was almost done the small section above the porch roof. Jeanine had left a supply of lemonade in her icebox for him, and had a lunch prepared.

When Lyle pulled in, he honked his horn and then scowled up at Bertram. Jeanine came out the front door, and hollered goodbye to Bertram.

He smiled and winked. Then he turned and continued painting.

* * *

After spending an hour that morning with Shelley and her pup, Bertram was now anxious to get the house finished. Most of the front had gone quickly, but things slowed down when he got to all the spindles of the railing around the front porch.

The heat was brutal. Bertram took advantage of the river and made frequent trips to cool off. He finally finished the last section of railing by 3:00 that afternoon. Now for the fun part - putting up the surprise molding and hanging a few flower pots that his mother had helped him arrange.

He wanted to be cleaned up and relaxing on Jeanine's porch swing when she finally pulled into the front yard later that afternoon.

* * *

As Lyle pulled out of Jeanine's front yard, she held her hands up to her head, trying to keep her hair from becoming a tangled mess – to no avail. Lyle insisted on driving with the top down. She gave him an annoyed look and sighed heavily, as his foot held the pedal to the floor.

He had barely greeted her when she got in the car, and now he sat in the driver's seat, oblivious to her presence. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other casually holding his hat down in the wind.

"Lyle," she said.

He didn't answer.

"LYLE," she hollered.

He jumped. "Huh? What?" he asked.

"You just seem rather preoccupied this morning. How was your trip to Joplin? Did everything go all right?" she asked.

"Oh. J-Joplin," he stammered. "Y-yes, it went fine."

"Well, I'm glad for the ride this morning," she continued. "I wanted to talk to you." She was speaking rather loudly as the engine rumbled and threatened to drown her voice out. "Could we put the top up? I can hardly hear myself."

"I like the wind in my hair," he answered. To emphasize the point, he pushed down a little harder on the accelerator and sped up.

Jeanine sighed. "Well, I was hoping to talk to you and . . ." Her voice trailed off as she realized that he wasn't listening. While she had wanted to talk to him about their future and his intentions, she was partly relieved, too. She knew that she wanted to break things off with him, and he would probably fight it. He could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, and also quite demanding.

It was a long drive to Springfield, and Jeanine had plenty of time to think and daydream. Lyle made no attempt at conversation, so she soon gave up and gave in to the daydreams about Bertram. Surprisingly, the ride passed by rather quickly.

Before she knew it, they were pulling into Springfield. Lyle followed the signs to the town commons where the Carnival was being held. He pulled into an old field to park his car. Jeanine waited for him to come around and open her door. He did not. When she realized that he was walking away without her, she opened her door and stepped out of the car . . . and right into a mud puddle. She was furious.

"Lyle," she called to him. "Thanks a lot."

"What?" he asked as he turned around and faced her. Seeing her stand there in the middle of the mud puddle, he grimaced. "Look at that," he grumbled. "You got your dress all muddy."

"No kidding," she answered sarcastically. "What's gotten into you? You haven't said three words to me all morning and now you're walking away without me."

"I'm just thinking is all," he said. "I'm sorry, Jeanine." He came back to her and helped her out of the mud puddle. "I guess I'm just a bit distracted."

He held his arm out to her and she linked her hand around his elbow. They started walking toward the entrance to the carnival. As they walked along, Jeanine saw a sign in the window of the general store. It said "Books for Sale."

"Lyle," she said. "Before we go into the carnival, would you mind going in the general store with me? I'd love to see what they have for books."

"Books? Books. Seriously?" he asked. "What do you want to read for?"

"Because I enjoy it," she replied. She didn't wait for an answer. She just started walking toward the general store. As she started up the steps, she heard someone calling to Lyle. Turning, she saw a tall man approaching him. Lyle stopped and waited for him.

Jeanine realized that Lyle had no intention of introducing her, so she continued on into the store. A little bell rang as she entered the door. The light inside was dim and she had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust.

An older gentleman wearing small spectacles greeted her. "Well, good morning, Miss," he said. "What can I do for you, today?"

Jeanine smiled. "I'd just like to see what you have for books. I saw your sign in the window."

"Ahh," he said, nodding. "An educated woman. I like that."

Jeanine let out a laugh. "Not all men do," she replied.

He chuckled. "That is true, I suppose." Then, he walked out into the aisle and motioned. "Follow me, Miss. The books are right back here." He pointed to a dusty table in the back corner. "They are mostly older books - nothing new here, I'm afraid."

Jeanine thanked him and approached the table with reverence. Like Bertram, she had a thirst for adventure and knowledge. There was a stack of books piled one on top of the other on the edge of the table. Jeanine slowly flipped them one by one to see the title.

She picked up the third book and looked at it with interest, then flipped through the pages. It was The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo. She remembered her teacher talking about it in school. Smiling, she set it aside then continued to flip through the rest of the stack. Three more books down . . . she gasped. Picking up the old book, she hugged it to her chest. Frankenstein . . . by Mary Shelley. Jeanine couldn't believe her luck.

Taking the two books back to the register where the old man was waiting, she couldn't contain her excitement.

"Looks like you found something worth reading," he said with a grin.

"Oh, yes," she exclaimed. ""Why, I don't even want to go the carnival. I can't wait to get home with these."

He laughed. As he rang up the books, he asked her, "Can I get you anything else?"

Jeanine looked around at the items on the counter. "You know what?" she asked. "How 'bout a few of these licorice candies. I have a friend who is going to love these books, and he has a bit of a sweet tooth, too."

"Is it that feller you drove up with in the fancy yellow car?" the man asked.

"Lyle?" she asked. "Oh, no. He wouldn't know a book if it fell on his toe. No, these are for my friend, Bertram. He lives back in Primrose Junction. His birthday is next month, but I really don't think I'll be able to wait that long." Jeanine paid the man and picked up her package. She practically skipped out the door to go meet Lyle out front.

When Jeanine walked out of the store, Lyle was still talking to that tall gentleman; however, a young woman had joined them. She was standing between them and smiling up at Lyle. She had blond curls and big blue eyes and was batting them at Lyle, shamelessly.

Jeanine approached the trio. "Ahem," she coughed, when none of them acknowledged her presence.

Lyle looked over. "Oh, Jeanine, there you are," he said. "I'd like you to meet Mr. James Cramer and his daughter, Millie. Mr. Cramer is a business associate of Father's."

"How do you do," Jeanine said with a small curtsey.

Mr. Cramer took her hand and gently held it to his lips. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Jeanine."

Millie managed a curt nod, then she glanced back up at Lyle with a snarky smirk. Lyle didn't seem to notice.

"Well, uh," said Lyle awkwardly. "Shall we continue on to the carnival?"

Millie grabbed Lyle's arm quickly and turned him toward the carnival entrance. Jeanine stood watching him walk away with her. Mr. Cramer noticed as well, and gallantly held his arm out to her. "Shall we?" he asked, kindly.

"Thank you," Jeanine said with a grateful smile. Linking her arm in his, they walked behind Lyle and Millie.

As Jeanine walked down the street, she couldn't help but notice that she really wasn't all that upset about the way Millie was clinging to Lyle. She looked down at the small package she held in her arm and hugged it to her chest. Smiling, she tried to imagine Bertram's surprise when she gave the books to him.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Jeanine was surprised to find Mr. Cramer to be delightful company. He was well-read and entertaining, and not to mention, a very handsome man. They followed Lyle and Millie over to the carousel. Lyle bought Millie and himself tickets. Then, he belatedly remembered that Jeanine was standing behind him.

"Uh, oh . . ." he stammered.

"Please," said Mr. Cramer, once again taking Jeanine's arm in his own. "Allow me."

Jeanine found herself smiling gratefully at him again. Mr. Cramer bought two tickets and led Jeanine to a gold chariot with a seat for two, being pulled by a white horse adorned with red feathers. Jeanine sat down and slid over, allowing Mr. Cramer to slide in beside her.

Up ahead a few rows, Lyle was helping Millie up onto a chestnut horse with a bright yellow saddle. She was giggling and slapping at his hands playfully.

Mr. Cramer glanced over at Jeanine. "I feel I must apologize for my daughter's brazen behavior," he said, looking at her with an embarrassed smile.

Jeanine smiled and shook her head. "It's quite all right, Mr. Cramer. I suppose I should be angrier than I am . . . but . . ." She laughed. "I'm just not. As it turns out, Lyle and I aren't meant for each other. Your daughter is quite free to pursue him."

Mr. Cramer's eyebrows shot up a bit. "Really? You're not angry?" he asked.

Jeanine hugged her package to herself again - a motion that was not lost on Mr. Cramer. She smiled again and shook her head.

The carousel started to turn and the piano music played loudly. Mr. Cramer looked down at the package she was holding. "What do you have there, that is so precious to you?" he asked.

Jeanine grinned. She laid the package down on her lap and fingered the twine that held it together. "Oh, these are just some books that I bought at the general store," she answered.

"And you're excited to read them?" he asked.

"I'm excited to give them to my friend, Bertram. He'll be excited to read them," she said. "Although, I do believe I will read The Hunchback of Notre Dame. That one does intrigue me."

Mr. Cramer nodded. He looked up at Lyle and then back at Jeanine. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "And would this Bertram be the reason why you and Lyle aren't meant for each other?"

Jeanine blushed. "Well, if truth be told," she said, "I guess I should say yes." She looked at him and gave a little shrug.

He smiled. "Follow your heart, Dear Girl," he said as he patted her hand. "You'll be happier for it."

As things turned out, Jeanine was having a more delightful day at the carnival than she anticipated. She was mostly strolling and chatting with Mr. Cramer, while Lyle and Millie walked ahead of them, flirting shamelessly. After the carousel, they rode the ferris wheel and then a ride with swings that lifted them up off the ground. Jeanine was both excited and terrified, but had to admit that the rush of wind in her hair was exhilarating . . . at least it was more fun than Lyle's car.

Shortly after a lunch of chicken and corn on the cob, Mr. Cramer said to Millie, "Darling daughter, look over there. It's a photographer. Let's take a picture, you and I."

"Of course, Father," she answered. "Let's." They walked off toward the photographer, and Millie looked back over her shoulder and gave Lyle a little wave.

Lyle absent-mindedly waved back, then reached over for the chicken bones on his plate, picking through to see if there were any tidbits left.

Jeanine cleared her throat. Lyle did not look up.

"Lyle," she said softly. "You certainly seem to be enjoying Millie's company today."

He didn't answer.

"She's very lovely," Jeanine said.

Still no answer. He was focusing very intently on his chicken.

"Did you meet her in Joplin?" she asked.

Slowly he looked up at Jeanine. He nodded. "Yes. Yes," he said, clearing his throat. "I had a meeting with her father, and she joined us for dinner afterward," he finally said. "You think she's attractive? I . . . I hadn't noticed."

Jeanine laughed. "Of course, you have." Then she sighed. "Lyle, we really need to talk. I . . ."

He cut her off. "We don't need to talk about anything," he said gruffly.

"Well, then," Jeanine countered. "Which one of us are you here with today. Because you drove _me_ here, but you've gone on three rides with _her_. Now don't get me wrong," she continued. "I'm not as angry as I probably should be, but you need to know that . . ."

This time, she trailed off. Her voice cracked.

"Need to know what?" he asked, frowning.

She took a deep breath, while playing with the folds in her dress layered around her and continued. "You need to know that . . . that I . . . while I really do appreciate all your help over the past months . . . I'm not in love with you. There I said it."

Lyle scowled and tossed his chicken bones back down onto the plate. "When did you come to this conclusion?" he asked. "Recently?"

Jeanine nodded. "I suppose so."

Lyle slowly nodded and looked around the park, not meeting her eyes. "I guess I knew that already," he said. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Now it was Jeanine's turn to not meet his eyes. "Y-yes. I am."

Lyle's head turned as he looked through the crowd of people around them. He saw Mr. Cramer and Millie laughing, arm in arm, heading back toward them. Standing up, he smiled as they got closer. He turned and gave Jeanine an expression that she couldn't quite read. Then he walked toward Millie and linked his arm in hers.

"Let's go to the animal tent," he said. "Mr. Cramer, Jeanine, will you be joining us?"

Mr. Cramer frowned at Lyle, then looked back at Jeanine, still sitting with the remnants of their lunch around her on the ground. She wasn't looking at them; she was starting to pick up the paper plates and stack them.

"We'll be along, I'm sure," he said to Lyle. "I'll help Miss Morse pick up after lunch. You two go on ahead."

Millie gave an excited squeal and pulled Lyle along toward the tent. As they walked away, Jeanine finally looked up and watched them go. Lyle didn't look back.

A stray tear slid down her cheek.

"Are you all right, Dear Girl?" Mr. Cramer asked gently.

"Of course," she answered. "I'm just sad. Even though I'm not in love with him, he has been a big part of my life lately."

"I understand," he said as he knelt by her and helped to pick things up. They walked slowly to a nearby trash barrel.

Afterward, they sauntered toward the large tent that boasted dozens of exotic animals from all over the world. Just as they approached the tent, Jeanine heard someone call her name and turned.

"Why, I declare," she said. "Hello, Mr. Frye, Mrs. Frye."

It was the Webbs' friends from Primrose Junction, Jefferson and Mary Frye, and their eight-year old twins, Tommy and Noah.

Jeanine looked at the twins. "Hello, boys. Are you on your way into the animal tent, too?

They nodded. Tommy was bouncing up and down in excitement.

Jeanine introduced the Frye's to Mr. Cramer, and they all entered the tent together.

The first thing that struck Jeanine as she entered the tent was the steamy heat. The second thing was the strong smell of animal. Wrinkling her nose, she turned to Mr. Cramer. "Oh my, I wasn't expecting this," she said. As she looked up at him, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She let out a squeal as she realized that it was the trunk of a very large elephant reaching out toward her hat.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "An elephant . . . an honest-to-goodness real, live elephant!"

The Fryes and Mr. Cramer all laughed. The boys were squeezing by her to get a better look. An attendant standing nearby called them over and put some peanuts in their hands. "Her name is Lucy," the young man said. "She's quite friendly and loves to be fed peanuts. Come on, get a little closer."

They all crowded forward. Jeanine looked around for Lyle and Millie, but didn't see them. Turning back to Lucy, she shyly held up her hand with two peanuts on her palm. Lucy reached out with her trunk, picked up the peanuts and then placed them gently into her mouth. Her eyes seemed to stare right into Jeanine's. Jeanine choked up. Holding her hand up in the air, she held her breath as Lucy reached out and gently touched her fingers.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

After Jeanine and the Frye's had moved on from Lucy, the elephant, they saw a lion, an old mountain gorilla who was missing most of his teeth, gibbons and a zebra and a cage of little lemmings. Some of the animals Jeanine saw that day, she had never heard of before. There were numerous animal handlers in the tent, and they were more than happy to share their knowledge of the animals. She couldn't wait to get home and tell Bertram all about them. Her favorite, though, was Lucy. The thrill she got when Lucy touched her fingers couldn't be topped by anything.

Now, Jeanine sat with her head back against the seat. Her bonnet was in her lap and the late afternoon breeze blew through her chestnut waves. Her eyes were closed, but she smiled as she listened to the excited chatter beside her.

As things worked out, Jeanine hitched a ride back to Primrose Junction with the Frye family.

Millie Cramer had begged Lyle to get a hotel room and stay in Springfield for the night. He made a show of saying that he couldn't, until Jeanine let him off the hook by telling him that the Frye's were there and could probably bring her home. He took the bait and told Millie that he would stay.

Now, they were all on their way home after an exciting, but exhausting day. The twins were in the back seat with Jeanine, laughing over the antics of the monkeys they had seen and reliving the moment of pure terror when the male lion let out a roar. They shrieked and giggled over each other's impersonations of the lion. Despite the fact that Jeanine was trying to doze, she couldn't help but laugh at their attempts.

Finally, the excited laughter trickled to a stop and the boys leaned on each other and drifted off to sleep. Jeanine glanced over at them one more time before succumbing to sleep herself.

Jeanine felt a light tap on her knee. She opened her eyes and saw that they were just about to pull into her front yard. The sun was starting to set and there was a slight pink tinge to the sky, reflecting on her house.

She sat up in the seat and mouthed an "oh". It looked positively beautiful. The front of the house looked so crisp and clean, and with the sun just setting, everything had a surreal feel to it. She looked around for Bertram and laughed as she saw him . . . asleep on the porch swing.

She thanked Jefferson Frye and his wife for bringing her home, and promised to have Bertram get in touch with him soon to discuss the chicken feed. Earlier in the day, Jeanine had told him about Bertram's design for the feeder and Pa Webb's idea that they get together to sell their products. Jefferson was intrigued by the idea and was looking forward to talking to him about it.

As she got out of the car and approached the house, she was grateful for the remaining light. Her eyes were trying to take in every detail. Bertram had lit a couple of lanterns on little tables, and she could see the new molding he had put up. As she got closer to examine it, she noticed the flower baskets hanging.

Her eyes teared up a little as she approached Bertram. He was sitting up on her porch swing, his hands in his lap and his head hanging backwards. She giggled as he let out a soft snore. She leaned over and kissed his forehead lightly.

Then she waved to Jefferson Frye to thank him again and let him know that she was safely home. Jefferson pulled out and continued home with his family.

Jeanine gently sat on the swing, trying not to wake Bertram. She placed her bonnet on the table next to her and held her wrapped package in her lap. She watched him sleep for another moment before waking him.

Gently, she brushed back his bangs. "Bertram," she called softly. "I'm home."

He shifted and mumbled. Jeanine couldn't quite make out what he said, but she thought she might have heard her name and, maybe, the word "beautiful". She smiled and called him again.

"Bertram, I'm home. Wake up, Silly."

Bertram shifted again and mumbled softly. He slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. Looking around, his eyes finally fell on Jeanine.

"Hi," he said with a dimpled grin.

"Hi," she answered with a shy smile.

"I finished," he stated proudly. "Do ya like it?"

"Yes, I do . . . very much," she answered. "It all looks so beautiful."

"No, you're the one who looks beautiful, Jeanine," he said.

"Oh Bertram, I'm a mess. The wind has been blowing my hair around all day. It's a tangled web." She self-consciously lifted her hand and tried to pat her hair down.

He grinned and leaned toward her, kissed her cheek and said, "I repeat . . . you're beautiful."

He reached out and took her hand in his. "Did you have fun today?" he asked. "Did you see an elephant?"

"I will tell you all about it," she said, "later. First I want to give you something."

"You're not supposed to give _me_ anything," he argued. "I did this for _your_ birthday."

"I know you did, Bertram," she answered. "But when you see what I got you, you'll be happy, I promise. I saw these in the general store in Springfield and couldn't pass them by." She held the wrapped package up and held it out for him. "Besides," she continued. "You're birthday isn't really far off . . . so just consider this an early present."

Bertram shook his head with a chuckle. He took the package out of her hands and broke the twine that tied it together. He peeled off the wrapper and a few pieces of licorice fell out. He laughed and popped one into his mouth, then he held one up for Jeanine. She let him feed her the piece of candy.

Bertram flipped over the first book so that he could see the title.

"The Hunchback," he exclaimed. "I remember Miss Peterson talking about this in school. She said it was real good." He looked up at Jeanine with his eyes shining. "Thanks, Jeanine. You're gonna read it, too, aren't you?"

Jeanine nodded enthusiastically. "I may even read it before you," she said, laughing. "You're going to want to read the other one first, I'm sure."

Bertram picked up the second book. He leaned over towards the table and pulled the lantern over so he could see the cover better. He gasped. "Frankenstein! You found Frankenstein!"

He clutched the book in both hands. Then he looked at Jeanine and threw his arms around her. "You're the best," he said, hugging her tight. "The absolute best!"

Jeanine laughed. "You see, I told you," she said.

Bertram laughed, too. Then he placed the books on the table and leaned back on the swing. Pulling Jeanine into his arms, he said, "Now tell me about the elephant."


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

For over an hour, Jeanine and Bertram cuddled on the swing while she told him about all the animals she had seen in the tent and the rides that she had gone on. The sun had gone down, the crickets were chirping and the lantern cast a soft glow around the young couple.

"Jeanine, I'm glad you went," Bertram said. "Aren't you glad, too?"

"Oh, Bertram, I am," she answered. "Although, it was frustrating trying to deal with Lyle." She frowned. "I suppose it worked out all right, though. At least, after the Cramers got there. Millie certainly seems taken with him, and he was enjoying her fawning all over him."

"You're okay, though, right?" he asked. "I mean, you did want to stop seeing him, didn't you?"

"Of course, Bertram," she answered. "If you haven't figured out by now that you're the one my heart wants . . ."

Bertram smiled and wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. As she laid her head upon his chest, he kissed the top of her head.

"Then you'll be my girl? For real?" he asked.

Jeanine sat up and looked at his hopeful face. Smiling, she answered, "Of course, I will, Bertram. I . . . I love you. I always have, I think."

"I gotta go," Bertram said in a panic. He stood up quickly and headed for the stairs.

"Bertram?" Jeanine stood up and went over to him. "What's the matter?"

"It's late," he squeaked. "If you're gonna be my girl, I can't be here after dark. Pa will come looking for me. I'd better get home." As he rambled, he stumbled down the stairs. He started for the wood burner, then turned back.

He didn't realize that Jeanine had followed him down the steps. She was standing right behind him when he spun back, and he bumped into her.

"Ooomph," he grunted. "Sorry, Jeanine." He reached out and caught her hands to keep her from falling. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers.

"I love you, too," he whispered, "but I seriously have to go, now."

As he fired up the engine, he hollered, "Come for breakfast in the morning. I'll see you then."

Jeanine laughed. She hugged her arms around herself as she watched him drive down the road. Just before going around a curve, he turned back and waved. Jeanine waved back, then slowly walked back to the house. Stopping on the porch to put out the lantern, she saw the books on the table. Smiling, she picked them up and brought them into the house.

The next morning, Jeanine rode her bicycle over to the Webbs' farm. When she got there, Bertram was coming out of the barn with Pa Webb. Shelley was tagging along at his heels.

"Good morning," she called out cheerfully.

Bertram's face lit up when he saw her. "Hi," he called back.

As she came to a stop and got off her bike, he walked over to her and pulled her into a hug.

"Bertram," she said, giggling and blushing. "Behave in front of your father."

Pa Webb came over, laughing, and pulled her into a hug, too. "Good morning, little lady," he said. "I do believe Ma is waiting for you inside."

After a quick ear-scratch for Shelley, she handed the books to Bertram and kissed him on the cheek. Then she scampered off into the house.

The two men stood there for a moment watching her go. Slowly, Bertram turned toward his workshop. The door was open and Pa followed him in.

As Bertram set the books down on his workbench, he said, "See, I told you I'd win her heart, Pa." He looked over his shoulder at his father with a smile. "Now that I'm done painting her house, I'll get busy building my chicken feeder. Jeanine talked to Jefferson Frye about his feed, so I'll take a ride over to see him later today. I'm thinking I could have it ready for the Greene County Fair in October."

Pa smiled and patted Bertram on the shoulder. "I'm right proud of you, Son," he said. "Both for this chicken feeder idea _and_ for getting the girl." He took Bertram by the shoulders and started heading for the door.

"Now, let's go eat. I'm hungry. And besides," he continued as they walked out of the shop, "You don't want to give them too much time in there. They'll get all sorts of girlish ideas in their pretty little heads."

The two men laughed together as they walked back toward the house with their arms slung over each other's shoulders.


	14. Chapter 14

_EPILOGUE_

It was late afternoon, mid-October. The air had a crisp chill and there were smells of fall in the air.

Bertram and Jeanine were just finishing a picnic lunch down by the river. Shelley and her pup were frolicking near the edge of the water.

"Oh, Bertram, it was such a lovely day at the County Fair yesterday," she said with a sigh.

"Yup, sure was," he agreed. "I can't believe it. I got twelve orders for my chicken feeder. And Mr. Barrett, all the way from Jefferson City, wants to order some for his and his brother's huge poultry farm. That could be a huge order."

"I'm so proud of you, Bertram," Jeanine said. "You must be very excited."

"I sure am," he answered. He picked up the last of the dishes and placed them into a basket. He stood up and reached for Jeanine's hand, then led her to the log on the edge of the water. Shelley came over, wagging her tail. Bertram reached over and scratched her ears.

"What are you going to name the puppy, Jeanine?" he asked. "He can stay here with you tonight. I think he's old enough."

"Oh, that's wonderful," she answered. She laughed as she watched the little pup trying to pounce on a frog. The frog was staying just a step ahead and trying for a fast get-away into the water. "Since you read that book to me," she continued, "I've been thinking of calling him Victor - after Victor Frankenstein."

Bertram laughed. "That's perfect," he said. "He's definitely a hole digger. Don't take him near any cemeteries."

Jeanine was caught between laughing and being shocked. "Bertram, don't even suggest such a thing."

Bertram sobered up. "I was thinking, Jeanine," he said tentatively. "Now that I'm a real inventor with contracts for the chicken feeder, well . . . now might be a good time to ask . . . I mean, I can support you and a family now, and I was thinking . . ."

Jeanine bit her lip and hid a smile. She had her arms up around his neck and leaned into him. "Yes, Bertram? What were you thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking . . . will you . . . will you m-marry me?" He stood back and looked at her and took her hands in his. Then he got down on his knee and reached into his pocket. "Look - I bought a ring and everything."

Jeanine smiled, and her eyes filled up with tears. "Yes, Bertram. Yes, I'll marry you."

He stood up, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Then he put his hands on her hips and swung her around with a celebratory yell. Sensing celebration in the air, even the dogs joined in.


End file.
